Beorn's Company
by Rosa Cotton
Summary: The chronicles concerning the journey of Thorin Oakenshield's Company failed to mention that Master Baggins was not the only one to be given a nickname by Beorn. Bookverse, movieverse, AU. No slash. Chapter Four: Gloin and Oin
1. Chapter 1: Balin, Dwalin, Thorin

Disclaimer: _The Hobbit_, all characters, places, and related terms are the sole property of J. R. R. Tolkien's estate, and Warner Brothers, New Line Cinema, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, and WingNut Films.

Author's Note: Fill for a prompt on the hobbit-kink meme.

Dedicated: For **justalotoffeelings**.

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><p>Beorn's Company<p>

Chapter One: Balin, Dwalin, Thorin

It was the morning of the second day of the company's stay at Beorn's house when things took an unexpected (and in some of the dwarves' minds, undignified) turn.

The dwarves were growing to accept their burglar being cuddled and called "Little Bunny"; they observed the interactions between Beorn and Bilbo with a mixture of growing amusement and lingering suspicion.

"My friends!" their host boomed as he joined his guests already digging into breakfast.

"Morning, Master Beorn," Balin paused eating, bowing his head respectfully.

"Did you sleep well, Mister Fluffers?"

Dwalin's fork slipped through his fingers, clanging noisily onto his plate in the hush that had fallen over the table. His brother blinked rapidly.

"I…did, thank you," the white-haired dwarf replied slowly.

The large man's face lit up with delight. "Wonderful!" His eyebrows rose when Dwalin growled and glowered at him.

"'Mister Fluffers?!'" the warrior exclaimed.

"Oh, aye. He is Mister Fluffers. Just as you are a Little Bear, just like me!" he said with a doting smile.

The tattooed dwarf's mouth closed with a clink. He almost looked in danger of fainting.

Oblivious, Beorn placed three slices of bread on his plate. "Pass the honey."

Wide-eyed, Ori reached for the honey pot and handed it to Dori who passed it on to Thorin, who in turn gave it to their host. A breathless gasp of surprise escaped the dwarven king as the skin-changer's hand curled around him and pulled him close to the larger creature's side. Stiffening, Thorin remained silent and composed, not fighting the man's hug, purposely avoiding his companions' eyes (though he did shoot a quick glare at the chuckling Gandalf seated across the table).

"Hugs make things better, my mama always said, Grumpy Badger," Beorn proclaimed earnestly. "And flower crowns, too! We'll make some after we eat!" he decided, happily giving the dwarf another squeeze before turning his attention to breakfast.

Paling, Thorin's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hairline. Gloin, Oin, and Dori looked at him, then at the skin-changer, and back at Thorin, goggling. Dwalin swayed in his seat, and Balin rested a steadying hand on his shoulder.

Bilbo hastily covered his mouth with his napkin, trying to hide his giggles. It was entertaining seeing he was not the only one on the receiving end of nicknames, hugs, and flower crowns now.


	2. Chapter 2: Nori, Ori, Dori

Chapter Two: Nori, Ori, Dori

It was the sudden loud clamor – dishes breaking, shouts, stomping, high-pitched bleating – which broke out somewhere in his house that interrupted Beorn's carving. Throwing down his tools, the skin-changer went to investigate, a dark frown clouding his grizzly face. Following the commotion, he stopped in a doorway and stared for a moment.

Broken dishes were scattered on the table and floor. Sheep and dwarves were running about, several collisions narrowly avoided. The man's attention was taken with one sheep in particular, the poor thing bleating frenziedly, wildly shaking its head.

As the sheep passed by Beorn, in a flash he reached down, catching the back of the dwarf's collar, effortlessly lifting the creature from the sheep. Ignoring the way the dwarf spluttered and flailed about, Beorn peered curiously at him.

"What do we have here?" he rumbled. "My sheep are not ponies." His eyes narrowed.

"NORI!"

Beorn looked down to discover two dwarves at his feet. One, silver-haired with intricate braids, looked torn between worry and irritation. Beside him, the younger dwarf wrung his hands nervously.

"Sorry, Master Beorn! My brother wanted to see if the sheep's—" the young dwarf cut off at the loud cough from the one in their host's grasp. "He sneaked up on the sheep. He did not mean to frighten it so. Please don't be angry." He stared at the skin-changer with big blue eyes.

Beorn's frown started to melt.

"Please, sir, if you would be so kind as to let Nori go. He won't do it again!" the silver-haired dwarf fretted. "I'll keep a sharp eye on him. You will not have further trouble with him. Now—sir!" his voice rose in alarm as his host burst out laughing.

The man grinned at Nori. "Clever Fox," he said, tone brimming over with admiration, setting the dwarf down with his brothers. He will have to ask later what Nori did to his sheep.

"Thank you!" Ori beamed with thanks.

"Little Owl is welcome," Beorn replied, patting the creature on the head.

For a minute he watched Dori check Nori over, hands searching for injury, alternating between scolding and inquiring if he was _sure_ he was alright. Without warning, the man reached out his hand and plucked up Dori who let out a squawk. Chuckling, Beorn cuddled the protesting dwarf in his arms.

"Fussy Hen," he remarked fondly, "you are funny!"


	3. Chapter 3: Fili and Kili

Chapter Three: Fili and Kili

It turned out Kili and Fili were among the ones the least nervous around Beorn.

In the beginning the skin-changer simply viewed them as a nuisance, often stumbling over and around the two, seemingly encountering them whenever he turned around. One brother practically never was without the other. While some of the dwarves had seemed tickled by the trio's odd dance, and the princes frequently flashed impish grins up at him before bounding away, the man had not been very amused. He grumbled into his beard half-heartedly about dwarves not staying out of his way.

Yet it was kind of flattering how they curiously followed him about constantly, asking tons of questions, gushing about his animals and beehives, watching in fascination as he carved. The way they turned their complete attention on him, growing quiet and still, wide eyes trained on him, as though he had stepped out of their childhood tales. The large man could envision them with little tails wagging back and forth in excitement.

So there really was nothing surprising about it when he bid goodnight to the company a week later and, in response to the princes' bright callings, he dubbed the two Golden Lion and Cute Puppy, to their great delight. And to _his_ delight, they did not object at all to being ambushed with cuddles.

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><p>Author's Note: Sorry for this being so short. Next part should be longer!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4: Gloin and Oin

Chapter Four: Gloin and Oin

"My name is Gloin, no more, no less!" the red-haired dwarf stated, fists resting on his hips, exasperated. "I don't answer to anything else!"

Tilting his head quizzically, Beorn's gaze slid to his beehives before returning to the dwarf who had marched up to him, and jumped into a lengthy and passionate rant without even a polite how-do-you-do. Well, never let it be claimed a skin-changer disregarded his manners!

"Good afternoon! Fine weather today, isn't it, Swe—"

"Don't!" the dwarf shouted, wildly waving his hands. "You may have given nicknames to my companions, but I will not stand for it! Terribly unbecoming for a dwarf to be stuck with such a silly thing," he shook his head vigorously. "We are a proud race, known for our prowess, fearlessness, pride, eye for finding beauty in the mountains. And to be called something like…"

Bean ventured, "Sweet Piglet?"

Gloin's right eye twitched. He took several deep breathes. "I am nothing of the sort!" he grounded out. "Piglets are small, defenseless. They are more like hobbits than dwarves."

The man's head tilted the other way, his expression considering. "Aye, I suppose that is true. Yet all the same, I name you Sweet Piglet. You are very good at cuddling," he complimented.

Gloin's face turned beet red. "Never again," he warned. "Why did I even try…?" Throwing up his hands he spun on his heel. After only a few brisk long strides, he sharply turned back.

"And stop calling my brother Billy Goat Gruff!" he ordered before stomping off.

"But…he makes me think of a goat with his hair and beard," Beorn protested, huffing. Dwarves were such odd creatures. They were covered with hair and so cuddly, yet worried about such things like dignity and ways of a dwarf.


End file.
